The First Penitatas
Chapter 26 – A Fall, and Rebirth

The instructions on the meeting invitation had been to dress 'informally', which Haal found amusing as everyone present, himself included, had come in uniform. Twelve Kyyreni rejuves, all medicalos, sat in a circle of chairs in an otherwise unused room behind the de-facto Guild headquarters of the Office of Correctors. Five of the boys in the circle wore female grey, the others wore either the resized black fatigues that Haal favoured, or the dark blue of a Prospect.
A female Dawnsider, the only adult involved, encouraged the rejuves to introduce themselves and talk about how they had become medicalos. The children responded with a level of enthusiasm typically reserved for tooth extraction, but eventually a boy in grey led the circle. “My name is Giig, I... was twenty-six years old, and I am part of the Guild's transport corps. If I'm not driving people around, I'm fixing what we drive. I was rejuved because of an accident when bringing those old OV-30s out of mothball. My team was over-worked and under-staffed, pushing fifteen-plus hour days to get the job done, but it was just after the Terror so we all had to suck it up and get it done. Someone, maybe even me for all I know, but someone screwed up the load harness when we hoisted the beast up. I was underneath it when the load cable slipped. I was probably killed on impact, but we had one of those portable wonder-machines on site and someone decided to shoot what was left of me with the magical healing beam. Woke up the next day a six year old boy.”
“Thank you for sharing that,” the hostess said in a soft, motherly tone. “Would anyone else like to share how they became a medicalos?”
After too long a pause, a boy in Prospect blue raised a paw to eye height. “I'm Baahn, umm, I was fifteen up until a month ago. I joined the Guild less than six month ago. I was born and raised out in New Plantation, if anyone knows the place? Just a textile town in the middle of nowhere. Umm. Me and two of my friends were taken in and sent to the nearest Guild facility for training, which was the one in Seven Hills. The Border Guard facility there. Well, there's a newish reservoir there, and the three of us found out we were being sent into the City so we decided to go for a swim before we left. Climbed up onto the control building roof and jumped off into the water. My friends jumped close to the corner, little too near the wall for my liking, so I jumped from the other side of the roof. There was a concrete arch or something under the water. I'm pretty sure I broke both my legs on impact, but it's all such a blur I can barely remember jumping at all. Guess I'm lucky.”
Lucky? The word stuck in Haal's throat. He struggled to see much 'lucky' about being a medicalos. True, he had come out of it better than most, but he had been close to the end of his natural life regardless; in the quiet moments, the old Watch-Captain had begun to see the tell-tale signs of death closing in, little tremors in the paw, or a growing vagueness in his thoughts. Rejuvenation had saved him from all that; had it come on swiftly enough, he would have likely have sought assisted suicide rather than have any truck with the strange and alien technology that turned adults into children.
“Captain Haal? Do you have something you'd like to share?” the host asked, reading from the boy's muzzle some from of inner monologue.
The question startled Haal, though he quickly composed himself. “Not at this time. For now, I'm seeking to order my thoughts.” No later time would come during that session.
It ended without ceremony. Only half the participants even bothered to introduce themselves; for all the focus on making a safe and comfortable space, most clearly did not feel safe or comfortable there. The rest of the time was mostly spent in silence, broken up by awkward, stilted discussion about the challenges and complexities of having childhood thrust upon them once more. While there were vague suggestions and inferences that the discussed challenges were at least known by some of the group, the only true consensus came when it was over – and that was nobody wanted to go back.
The sense of time wasted left Haal in a sour mood, which he carried with him back into the building proper. The Office of Correctors was an increasingly inaccurate name for the building, as almost every workspace and room was now taken up by central administration and primary Guild functionaries. There was even a representative of the Watch now, an elderly female Kyyreni name Uld who refused to retire because, in her opinion, nobody under the age of forty knew how to blow their noses correctly, let alone run a policing and state-security operation. Haal liked Uld immensely.
He wound up the building to the floor reserved primarily for living space. Guildmaster Kadan had an office up there for when he did not wish to receive guests. Haal knocked smartly on the door and awaited summons.
“Come in, Haal!” Kadan shouted through the door. The Medicalos stepped through, instinctually flicking his tail away from the closing door as most Kyyreni did as he passed. Trapping a tail was a childhood tradition few ever wished to repeat. “How was that meeting of yours?” the Guildmaster asked.
“Unproductive,” Haal answered as he took a seat in front of Kadan's desk. The Guildmaster sat with his elbows on the decks and fingers meshed together, his muzzle cradled by the interlocked digits.
“One of those 'talk through your problems' affairs, right?”
“Precisely. I don't resent the aim, you understand, but I see no point in the methods. If they believe there is a problem, they should state so clearly and propose solutions.”
Kadan nodded, lifting his chin from his fingers. “That's been my day as well, and it's not even lunch yet. Take this report here,” the Guildmaster waved at a screen Haal couldn't see from his seat, “we need to up manpower, but the way I see it is anyone who wants to be in the Guild already is. We can't shuffle more staff around because every department is already stretched as it is, so I'm expected to snap my fingers and magic up more bodies.” He snapped his fingers, but no bodies appeared.
Haal considered the Guildmaster's problem for a few moments. “It would appear subcontracting is our only option then.”
“Yes, and I already regret that! The bloody Penitatas Registration Company thinks they should have a direct line to me! They should be coming through you!”
Haal huffed irritably, “they are, Guildmaster. The PRC, especially that Karrian, are of the opinion my office is not providing sufficient support to them. The notion that we may have priorities beyond their convenience escapes them.”
“Well neither of those solutions are ideal. Anyway, how about you help me with another problem? A much more important one?”
“Of course, Guildmaster,” Haal answered. The boy seemed to grow taller from the simple act of being tasked with providing solutions for his superior.
A thin smile spread across Kadan's muzzle. “Find a way to convince Skal and Kas not to get us killed in Sam's game tonight. I may not know all the rules yet, but I got the distinct impression we did badly last time. “
“Is that really so important?” Haal asked in surprise.
Kadan gave a snort, “If I'm going to play games then I intend to win at them. But no, if you just want to turn up and go along for the ride then that's your business.”
“I understand. I will... give it some thought,” Haal answered weakly.

The rest of the meeting was blessedly routine, devoid of any unexpected demands or strange requests. Haal returned briefly to his office to ensure that all was as it should be before volunteering for field work; the transitioning of responsibilities over penitatas was being done in stages, with the PRC handling all new would-be penitatas owners, but the Correctors maintained responsibility over the existing sign-ups. At some point this would change, which meant that all Guild certified penitatas masters had to be brought into compliance with the standards upheld by the Penitatas Registration Company. Haal did not begrudge these new standards; the shambolic free-for-all approach of the early days rankled him. The new, more orderly approach was a welcome one. It was the PRC itself that he disliked, for entrusting justice to an independent business was an aberration.
A thin scowl formed upon his muzzle as he recalled the old days. The prisons had been run as businesses before the Watch's founding, leading to what was an obvious perversion of justice; the prison companies had every incentive to fill the cells and labour gangs, but no profit motive to release anyone. Black Pit and Iron Gaol were still harsh places, cruel even, but ultimately fair. A convict served their allotted time, endured their due suffering, and returned to society with a lesson they would not forget.
Haal's footpaws stalled of their own accord. Were they 'fair'? the intrusive thought came unbidden. He had served time in Iron Gaol of his own free will, and done so precisely because of the reputation he had earned as Watch-Captain before rejuvenation. The callousness of that place had all but overwhelmed him; the deliberate monotony, the enforced pointlessness of unproductive hard labour, the malicious compliance with the letter of the rules with no thought to their obvious intent.
What must Black Pit be like? Another thought struck, dagger like, into his conscious mind. He shuddered at the blow, huffing out a curse beneath his breath before seeking clarity in rage. “Fuck this pathetic child body!” he rasped, welcoming the bidden anger as it helped drown out the self-doubt. Calm and order returned, allowing Haal to refocus on his duties.

Merchants, being a district focused on commerce, was blessed with an efficient transportation network. The buildings were constructed in a conservative fashion to ensure considerable airspace was available for anti-grav traffic, with guide lights on rooftops or hanging from the dome to help efficient navigation. For ground-bound travellers the magway was well serviced and kept in good condition, roadways were wide and sensibly arranged, yet not at the expense of pedestrian needs. The boy made use of the travelators to clear the dense cluster of Guild-owned plots, the moving walkways allowing him to casually stroll at sprinting speed. Cynical visitors of the district argued the moving walkway was put there so the Bankers didn't have to look at poor people, but the smart attire and numerous Guild insignias of his fellow travellers put paid to that idea.
Haal's destination was in the north of the district, where Merchants formed an L-shape to turn east and envelop Vices. Here stood one of the tallest buildings in the area, a unique tower built around a structural support pillar linking to the dome above. The face of the building had undergone recent alterations – there was a distinct discolouration on the frontage where a grand crest once hung. Haal suspected the construction had been funded by House Tavik, as so many others had; a legacy many were no-longer keen to acknowledge.
The medicalos received questioning glances as he entered due to his youth. Although rejuves had been a part of Taviksaad society for over a year now, it still took time for some to adjust. The uniform, however, stopped anyone from acting rashly. He was directed to the very top of the building, reached via an elevator that opened to a curving corridor. The boy found his destination and knocked smartly – Enforcers did not ring doorbells. The fact that said bell was almost out of reach was a reality he had no intention of admitting.
The door swung open to reveal a striking female in an off-world dress. Her chestnut fur was styled to have subtle wave patterns created by alternating lengths of hairs, her eyes were brilliant gold and shockingly sharp. Even in a childhood body, Haal found her deeply distracting in the most unprofessional of ways. He quickly put such impulses out of his mind. “I am Corrector-Captain Haal from the Office of Correctors,” he began.
“I know who you are, captain,” the female replied just before he could explain his presence. The timing was impertinent, but her tone was entirely respectful. “I am Vuuhla daughter of Jaahla, welcome to my office. Please come in.”
“Do you always answer your own door?” Haal asked with a hint of irritation, hoping to regain the initiative.
“Only when expecting such an important guest. May I offer you refreshment?”
“Thank you, but no. I am here to inspect your arrangements regarding your penitatas. I believe you own a girl named-” Haal glanced at his datapad only to find an alien name written there.
Vuuhla saw his confusion and offered aid. “Xipeth. She always went by 'Zip'.”
“I will amend our notes. May I see her?”
“Of course. Shall I find a vacant meeting room for the two of you?”
“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Haal replied.

'Zip' was ushered in to the tiny office Vuuhla made available. She was what Haal considered typical for a Jalaxian; slight of limb with feline features and covered in blue-black fur. She wore only a pair of shorts, not uncommon for a child of six on Taviksaad, revealing a lighter grey patch of fur upon her stomach. Seeing the girl set of an unexpected reaction in the medicalos – an itch behind his eyes whose source he could not place. “Please sit,” he said. Though his tone was neutral, there was clear anxiety in the girl's alien expression.
“A-am I in trouble?” Zip stammered, her feline features contorting into a fearful grimace.
The reaction gave Haal pause. That itching sensation was getting worse. “No... this is a routine inspection. I am here purely to confirm your living conditions are to the standards set by your contract of indenturement.” Haal took a seat opposite the girl and consulted his tablet. “You were part of the phase one rejuvenations, is that correct?”
The girl paused. “I... I don't know, sir. I was taken from Black Pit and rejuvenated.”
The mention of the Watch prison caused the itch to flare into a full-blown memory. Haal was there again, in the subterranean cell blocks, looking out at the world through his cyclopean artificial eye. He recalled a Jalaxian girl of around twelve or thirteen in the lower cells. He could see her sobbing in terror as clearly as he saw the penitatas in front of him now. The memory was from fifteen years ago.
“I think I remember you being imprisoned there. Were you sent to us as a child?”
Zip nodded sheepishly, then corrected herself. “Not a 'child' as such. A rejuve, sir.” She saw the confusion on Haal's muzzle and added, “I came to this part of space because I was told merchants could get rich out here. I lied my way onto a Kyyreni ship by pretending I was an engineer; she ship I worked on had obtained a Chronostatic Jump Drive from somewhere, but none of the Kyyreni crew understood how it worked. I didn't either. I.. I... I killed half the crew! I didn't know how to read the signs or what to do to stop it! On our last jump into Maribahl the radiation shielding failed, dosing us all. I was up in the front where the chronostatic radiation wasn't so bad, but the others...”
The girl shivered in anguish at the memories brought up by her confession. “Two technicians were in the engineering section when the overload happened. They died instantly, or so I'm told. The ones in the midship weren't so lucky. It took hours for them to die. I had to watch, I had to see what the radiation did to them. When the Maribahl authorities began their investigation it didn't take long for them to figure out I was to blame. They wanted to make me a penitatas, but my crew wanted to bring me back here to face 'proper justice'. That's how I wound up in that underground hell.”
Haal listened quietly to the Penny's confession. He had never cared much for such things in the past; in his experience, every convict claimed to be the victim of circumstance, or otherwise wrongly punished. Not one had ever had the moral standing to openly admit their failures; but then, moral people did not become criminals. Watch doctrine made it clear the convict was unworthy of sympathy. He had helped to write those very doctrines. Despite that, Haal felt some twinge of compassion for the girl's plight. He quashed the emotion as an unwelcome distraction. “What are your living arrangements? Are your base needs met?” he asked.
“I have my own room in Vuuhla's apartment. I get plenty to eat, regular trips to the baths, and she even bought me a few toys.” There was obvious gratitude for that in the girl's tone.
“What about discipline? Describe a typical punishment.”
Zip's brightness was fleeting. “I never do anything wrong!” she answered so quickly it seemed an admission of guilt. Terror dripped from her young lips as she hastily added. “I never want to go back to Black Pit!”
Haal raised a paw to try and calm her. “That is not why I am here! I simply want to know what form of corporal punishment is typical for you.”
“I've never been punished like that,” Zip's tone was calmer, but still anxious. “I've been sent to bed early a couple of times, had my toys taken away or given extra chores, but that's all.”
“So you have never been subject to corporal punishment?”
“Only the public one last winter,” The Jalaxian blushed deeply at the painful, embarrassing memory.
“I see. Thank you, Zip. Would you please ask your mistress to come in? I would prefer you not be present during my interview with her.” Those last words clearly troubled the penitatas, but she complied without comment.
Vuuhla settled into the chair opposite Haal without invitation. “Is it correct you are not issuing corporal punishment to your penitatas?” he asked her.
“It hasn't been needed,” the woman replied with a calm flick of her tail.
Haal's eyes narrowed. “It is expected for you to issue so-called 'unearned' punishments to a penitatas.”
Vuulha paused before answering. “I knew Zip from the old days. I was one of her crew, one of the survivors who wanted her to face proper punishment for her crimes. I don't know what you did to her in those dungeons, but it changed her. Hollowed her out. If she slips up at all, even slightly, it brings on a panic attack; she lives in absolute, crippling fear of being sent back to Black Pit! So no, Enforcer, I am not punishing her beyond what I deem necessary.”
The woman's defiance boiled Haal's blood, so much so that he felt certain she could see the growing heat in his face. You would not show such defiance to me if I were my former self! the medicalos cursed inwardly, but his tongue kept its proper place. “Fine!” he snapped, all too childishly. “I will let this matter be for now.”
To his surprise, and considerable indignation, Vuuhla began to smile at his petulence. “Not easy being a rejuve, is it?”
Haal's self control fell away at the barb. “Perhaps you will not be so smug when you endure it yourself!”
“Oh I have, fifteen years ago,” Vuulha replied. “The whole crew was dosed with chronostatic radiation. Not a lot, but enough that it would have led to some deeply unpleasant consequences in later life. The humans on Maribahl rejuventated us all to clear the radiation. It confused the hell out of my parents; their daughter left a seventeen year old and came back eleven! I can only imagine how hard it is to be as young as you are, given how difficult returning to ten was  for me. But it gave a new perspective on the world. As strange as it sounds, I found myself questioning things I'd blindly believed all my life...”
“Where did that 'questioning' lead you?” Haal asked, his anger now faded and replaced by a cautious curiosity.
Vuulha glanced at the wall. A concept drawing for the 'Strongback' ground-to-orbit cargo transport hung there. “That ship is the pride of Clan Yard Air-and-Void Technologies, the single best lifter-shuttle ever conceived on Taviksaad, and likely beyond. It is so good, in fact, the Lifter Guild tried to make it illegal for us to sell to anyone other than the guild company! You'd think something that spectacular must have some revolutionary, cutting edge technology, some vast leap in aerospace engineering never seen before... but it doesn't. The Strongback could have been built exactly as it is now a hundred years ago, possibly even earlier. Every engineering team was so focused on being different, on standing out, on forging their own path... nobody ever thought to look backwards. Nobody ever thought the best way forward was to take what already worked and refine it. Maybe you don't have to reinvent the wheel every time. Maybe you don't have to run off seeking adventure. Maybe your parents were right that you'd learn to enjoy the family business...”
The woman chuckled at her own words. “Forgive me, Corrector-Captain, I appear to be taking up your valuable time. Was there anything else?”
“No, thank you. I believe I have finished here.”

The disquiet that had plagued him all day did not fade by the end of his duty shift. Haal participated in the agreed upon social activities, dutifully present for Sam's roleplaying game, but clearly the least engaged. He excused himself as soon as he felt able, and retired early to bed. Even there he found little respite from his intrusive doubts, doubly so because he found a personal letter waiting for him; a letter from Kyr. This was initially a welcome surprise, but the contents of the letter soured him instantly. Kyr was accusing the Guild of falsely imprisoning a woman. Such a suggestion was unthinkable to Haal, and he made that clear in the first draft of his reply.
“Kyr,” he spoke allowed to his datapad. The dictation software dutifully transcribed the name into the body of the mail. “While I understand your concerns with regards to your colleague, the Guild does not make such mistakes as you accuse...”
But that wasn't true, was it? a guilty inner voice asked. Haal had seen first hand the callousness of Iron Gaol; the inventive little cruelties that allowed a vindictive, or simply uncaring Watchman to make life all the worse for Convicts without ever stepping outside of the rules. Monotonous meals, perks withheld for no reason other than they were not expressly required to be delivered, manual labour that achieved no purpose. He had seen it all. Suffered it all.
“...Dictate: Delete body text.” The runes vanished. “Begin dictation. Kyr, I have received your message. I will... investigate this matter. I believe it is unlikely there is anything amiss, but if it is so that your colleague has been wronged... I will, of course, seek proper restitution on her behalf. Signed: Corrector-Captain Haal, Office of Correctors. Send message.”
The boy lay upon his bed and waited for the confirmation blip before dropping the datapad onto his bedside table, but sleep would not come for some time. He was anxious, flustered, and completely out of sorts; being self-aware enough to recognise that served only to make his mood worse. He had built himself up as an iron-clad man who established and upheld the highest of standards, transforming the most loathed and least desired branch of the expanded Enforcer's Guild, the Watch, into a paragon office by which all others were judged.
So why am I no longer proud of the Watch? the inner bastard asked.
Haal's fists thumped his pillows as he huffed out his frustration. It was his body to blame – a childish body led to childish thoughts! Childish doubts! All his fellow rejuves ever cared about was playing games, or sport, or... physical pleasure. Sam and Skal especially were guilty of that; over-sexed to comical degrees for Kyyreni of their physical age!
Haal cursed at that fleeting thought as memories of his own exploration of Sam's body resurfaced. One of the unexpected benefits of his distant accident that had left him a scarred, cyclopian terror, was the apparent loss of libido. He truly couldn't recall having ever felt the need to gratify himself, though he was certainly intact where it counted.

The boy's mind wandered, somewhat guiltily, to his own experiences with Sam. He had been placed in a position of authority over her, and despite her willingness it had been entirely improper for them to engage in sexual activity. Yet he had, and in the restless dark of his room he wished to do so again. The faint memory of her scent crept into his nostrils, conjuring vivid mental images of her intimate regions. The boy's paw wandered to his crotch, fingers curled gently to cup his sac, a careful thumb rested upon the opening of his sheath. Haal teased himself with slow caresses, coaxing the soft, red tip of his boyhood from his furry hiding place. As his eyes slid closed he licked the fingers of his right paw to give a little lubrication and began to rub his slowly swelling tip between finger and thumb.
Haal let his eyes slide closed as the boy's imagination set to work. He recalled every blessed detail of their first encounter, of holding her body close and burying his muzzle into her crotch, letting the scent of her privates fill his mind like a wondrous, numbing fog. That same pleasant cloudiness began to return as his paw drifted down to close around his half-hardened member, his breathing becoming deeper and more rapid with each pleasuring stroke. Yet a thought hit him, sharp and quick as lightning, making his eyes snap open; there was a better thing he could use than memories.
With little thought to decency, Haal swung out of his bed and padded to the laundry hamper. For once, the girl's laziness was a blessing, for it only took a quick rummage through her unwashed clothes to find a suitable prize; a pair of tight shorts she had worn prior to her last trip to the public baths. Haal turned the garments inside out and brought them to his nose. At once, a flood of odours surged through his mind, sending lightning down his spine and making his cock twitch eagerly. He let his eyes close once more and imagined her lying on her bed, legs tucked up and spread apart, tail wagging in shy eagerness at the thought of mating. He pictured her biting her lower lip as she so often did when flirting with Skal, inviting him to mate.
With pants still pressed firmly on his muzzle, Haal climbed onto Sam's bed and threw her pillows under him. He began to hump them, urging himself on with imaginative whispers. “Sam... you are so warm, so soft, so wet...” he panted into her panties. His free paw returned to his crotch as his knot slid clear of his sheath and began to swell. He pushed his length against the pillow, finding more pleasure from the friction. As he drew ever closer, Haal took a deep, strong huff of the stolen pants and squeezed his knot tight. His whole body spasmed at the sensation, and for several seconds he was paralysed as his boyhood pulsed furiously in his paw. Freedom returned with a flood of endorphins, and he finally let Sam's underwear fall from his grip.
A terrible clarity came to him. He looked down at the damp streaks he'd left upon the girl's pillow, and sickness plunged through his stomach. “Oh no,” he whimpered, flinging himself from the girl's bed and rushing to his own laundry to grab a shirt with which to try and wipe away his seed. His frantic efforts removed the droplets, but there was no hiding the damp, nor the scent. He placed the soiled pillow back in place, damp patch down, and left the unsoiled pillow on top. His ears pricked painfully at the hint of sound outside of the room, prompting him to fling the cum-stained shirt back into the hamper and dive under his own covers.
He lay facing the wall, eyes clenched shut and heart hammering for what felt like a lifetime before the door finally creaked open. Childish voices spoke briefly before soft, light footpaws padded across the threshold and the room returned to darkness. He listened, paralysed by shame, as Sam stood in the middle of the room for far too long. He listened to her change into her sleeping clothes, shuffle into bed, and then become still. Too still, to his mind. It was an eternity before the heavy breathing of sleep drifted from the girl's bed, and far longer still before Haal joined her.

The Corrector-Captain rose earlier than necessary, if only because he longed to escape the bedroom. As he shuffled through his drawers in search of clean clothes his ears burned at the soft rustle of sheets. He glanced over to see Sam sat upright, and as soon as their eyes met the girl flicked her gaze away. “Good morning,” Haal said, trying to sound calm and composed.
“Good morning,” Sam replied. Those two words, delivered in a timid tone, were more than enough to confirm Haal's worst fears.
“I...” he began, though he had no idea what more to say.
Sam's gaze reached his feet, but no further. “I guess you were masturbating last night.”
“I was,” he confessed, blushing bright crimson.
For a brief instant, Sam bit her lower lip. She quickly stopped and tried to force a playful tone, “you must have been pent up; you left a pretty strong scent.”
“I have to attend my duties!” Haal barked out as he all but fled the room, his muzzle glowing crimson beneath his blond fur. Sam tried to call out an apology, but the boy was long gone before the first syllable touched her lips.
By the time he reached the safety of his office, Haal's heart felt ready to burst. He hid behind his desk and stared at the login screen while his mind whirled inside his skull like foam in a drain, thoughts popping and splitting before he could grasp them. “What do I do?” he whispered to the screen, hoping against hope that vocalising would somehow calm the chaos.
The Kyyreni boy put his paws over his eyes and thermal pads, blocking out the world. “You are Watch-Captain Haal,” he told himself, trying to force a deeper, more adult tone into his voice. “You are iron-fast, you are a beacon of order and control. You are master of your body. You are master of your mind. You are iron-fast. You are iron-fast.”
His breathing slowed and deepened. He let his paws drop, returning to the world a little calmer and more focused. The anxiety was far from gone, but he at least felt able to plan more than three seconds into the future. “Duty, Haal. Begin with duty.” Thus affirmed, he logged in and checked the morning mail.
Within minutes, Haal dared to smile again. Here, upon the softly glowing screen, was all that he had ever desired; an ordered, functional world of routine and regimen. He duly read and filed every entry into its proper subfolder, making occasional notes on his personal pads in case childish memory betrayed him. One such item encouraged all Guild members to patronise local businesses to stimulate the economy and build positive relations, and Haal forwarded his own thoughts to Administrator Emyl, requesting she find suitable ways the Office of Correctors might adhere to this new policy. There were social obligations as well; listings of dates and stadiums for all upcoming Kingsball games featuring the Blacks, with subtle reminders that the Guild was sponsoring the team. A similar message circulated for the Browns, much less formal in tone and clearly more about loyalty to the ex-Guild members playing on the team.
Then came a memo from the Office of the Watch.
Haal opened it eagerly, but the contents stilled him. It was from the administration office of Iron Gaol, informing him that Kyr was no-longer held at that facility, nor any Watch facility, and that they had no means to forward Haal's message. All they could tell him was that Kyr had been purchased by House Gronahl.
The boy stared at the screen, scarcely able to process this information. Kyr had been a distant friend, but a friend nevertheless. To have him suddenly beyond reach, with possibly no future contact was chilling to the core. The anxiety built until Haal could suffer it no longer, and he hastily wrote a mail to Emyl and Torn, informing them he would be unavailable for the day. Then he logged off, left the office, and fled out into the City.

Haal stumbled through Vices in a daze, gawping at the buildings and streets as if he had never seen them before. In his rattled, agitated state he became acutely aware of things he would otherwise have glossed over; it began with the buildings that still bore chips and scars from bullets or bomb damage earned during one of the several bouts of unrest the City had endured. He glanced fearfully at walls tagged with gang-sign or other vandalism, and grimaced in distress at shuttered stores that bore neglected signs to explain their permanent closure. The streets were as full of Kyyreni as ever, yet the boy was acutely aware of the many rag and blanket clad bodies that lay curled in doorways or alleys, either mutely begging for charity or simply still and vacant.
The boy's footpaws led him to one of the worst streets of the district. Once lined with the low, shaded dens of sin and depravity, now most of the buildings were silent. Hints remained of recent visitation; spat-out globs of chewing tar congealed alongside dropped scraps of as yet unspoilt food. Haal came upon a fire-blackened shell of a building and slowed, seeking any sign of life. A half imagined sound made him try one of the nearby doorways covered in industrial signage, warning labels and generic 'keep out' stickers. When pushed, the rust-brown door created open to his touch. Wincing, the Kyyreni boy nevertheless braved the entry and padded cautiously onwards into the gloom. In the light of the open door he caught sight of an old poster depicting a crude prosthetic leg with the words Boots Save Paws underneath. Below the poster was a tool-box that water damage had secured to the floor as surely as any welding torch. Thermal sense revealed the building was still in use, or at least functional – a poorly shielded electrical box glowed yellow-amber by an inner door, while a trio of overheat pipes flared a searing red. A few steps toward the door revealed a heavy duty padlock, its loop sheared off by an industrial grinder, and clear signs of passage in the floor's grime.
Wisdom said he should retreat and report a potential burglary, but Haal was done with wisdom. The room beyond had been extensively reworked. Most of the floor had been caved in to expose the basement level below, which itself was full of thrumming, glowing utilities. Yet far more organic sounds came from his own floor, whispering through a ventilation grille built into the bottom half of the next door along. The medicalos gave the machinery opposite the door a quick study, and satisfied it was relatively safe he clambered up into the mess of warm metal and worn insulation. Through the open vent above the door he spied two Kyyreni at a makeshift bed. The nearest was a Nightsider male with his back to the door, while the other, mostly concealed, appeared to be a much younger Dawnsider female. Her posture and his grunting made their activities obvious, and following a long and satisfied grunt from the male, the female straightened up to wipe her muzzle.
Something exchanged paws between them, and Haal caught the female's muffled voice. “This isn't what we agreed.”
“If you want more coin you'll have to give me something better than your muzzle,” he growled in reply. The girl turned away in submission, and he turned for the door with a dismissive grunt.
Haal dropped lower as the door opened, ears pricked and listening as the male left. He counted to thirty before rising from hiding and climbing back onto the ad-hoc walkway. As he pushed the vented door open he found not one, but two females waiting for him, both of whom startled at his arrival. He recognised them instantly. “I had a feeling I would find you here,” he said to Aydr and Leyl, the Kyyreni girls he'd known from the Play Room.
“Haal?” Aydr's surprise turned to shame as she recognised the medicalos boy before her. The girl's tail curled bashfully between her legs. “Why are you here?”
“I... I came looking for you,” Haal answered. Both of the girls were as they had been on their last arrest, thin and unkempt. “I had hoped you would have found some other way to provide for yourselves, but a part of me suspected you would return to this.”
“It's not like I had a choice,” the girl shot back, daring to let a flicker of anger enter her voice.
Haal recalled their last meeting. The girls had been arrested for trespassing, nothing more, but Aydr had confessed to illegal sex-work to keep them fed. Haal had been sympathetic to some extent, but he had stuck to his convictions; the law was to be obeyed. The Guildmaster had chosen to be lenient and let them off with a night in the cells. “Do you recall the conditions of your freedom?”
“Of course I do! I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else to go!”
“There were always more options, Aydr.”
The girl's eyes flared. “I would rather live like this as a free woman than sell myself into slavery just for a roof over my head!”
“So you said, but now I fear you may not have a choice in the matter.”
All signs of anger died in the ten year old girl's face, replaced by genuine terror. “You're going to make me a penitatas, aren't you?”
“That is what the law requires of me,” he replied coldly.
“I see.” Aydr hooked a finger under her weathered shirt, lifting it enough to reveal the soft, pale fur of her stomach. “What's our freedom going to cost?”
The invitation made Haal's stomach knot for multiple, conflicting reasons. He turned away in disgust – not at the prospect of rutting with the girl, but that she would presume an Enforcer could be bought that way! He knew lesser men were, of course; that his Guild had been sullied in such a fashion was a source of permanent ire. Where it in his power, Haal would have crushed that behaviour long ago.
And yet Haal was tempted. He had already shamed himself by surrendering to his base impulses. It could almost be argued he would be doing Aydr a favour... A frustrated huff escaped the boy's maw as he spat, “fine! If you are to buy my compliance, however, we will do it entirely on my own terms. I have no wish to sully myself with this place; you will both come with me.”
The two females complied without a word. Haal led them west to the more respected parts of Vices, glancing over his shoulder regularly to make sure the girls were still behind. He expected them to cut and run at every alley or junction, yet they never did. That, somehow, was far worse.
The restaurant he chose was picked at random. It was unblemished by past troubles, with any damage suffered now repaired. A wide metal staircase led up to an open-air balcony dining area with a bar at one end. The trio were led to a table, where Haal spoke only to invite the girls to order whatever they wished. Almost every menu item was some variation of fish stew. The waiting staff delivered their meals along with two sets of rented cutlery and a subtle sneer at the unkempt girls, after which the three ate without conversation. Haal's child portion was more than sufficient for his needs, while both girls wolfed down adult sized bowls. Leyl was left groaning by her greed, but Aydr found room to fit more bread.
“I had hoped a meal and a public place might make you more inclined to talk without making a spectacle,” Haal announced once Aydr had consumed every last scrap of crust at the table. “It also gave me some time to think about why I sought you out to begin with. Since I visited your Play Room I have had several incidents where this childish form has clouded my judgement. You clearly saw something that I did not then, that we rejuves need an outlet for childishness.”
“Well like I told you, the Play Room is long gone,” Aydr sighed. A full stomach seemed to grant some life to her voice again, despite her saddened words and drooping ears.
“Tell me again, please.”
“Why? Do you enjoy listening to how my life feel apart?”
“Indulge me,” Haal insisted as forcefully as a six year old could.
The girl relented with a shrug. “We never really found our niche. We had some clients, but most of the interest came from people who made the same assumptions you did. Still, when it all fell apart we had a few rejuve regulars, and some local families paid us to mind their regular children. Then the building burned down in the Terror and it was all gone. The rest of my staff ghosted me, and so that left Leyl and I on the streets.”
“Surely you had friends and family to rely on?” Haal pressed.
“Not for a long time. My two children went off-world to find their fortunes elsewhere, and my husband died in a traffic accident three years ago. I started the Play Room because the place I worked had to close down, so even my old work colleagues can't help me.”
Haal glanced at Leyl. “You could afford to buy a slave, however.”
“Through trickery, mostly. I knew you Enforcers were trying to convince as many people as possible that this 'penny' thing should be the new normal, and then it was just a case of figuring out who to lean on. In the end it was the Gamblers of all people who picked up the bill – she made a nice little tax write-off, I'm sure!” To Haal's surprise, Aydr actually laughed at her own cleverness. It was a delightful sound, especially from a girl who thus far had been so downtrodden.
“You are clearly resourceful. Why not try again with the Play Room?”
Her smile vanished instantly. “I would never be able to secure the funds again. The lenders have already lost coin on my first attempt, so I'll be blacklisted for sure!”
“What if I were to provide funds?”
“No! I won't be bound to any Guild, especially not yours!”
Haal was taken aback by her fierce defensiveness. “I wasn't suggesting indenturement, Aydr. A captain is entitled to a decent wage, and I have drawn a mere pittance of it in my many decades of service. It would not be difficult for me to convince the Guild to surrender a sum of coin to my own purse, especially when I do so in the name of funding a public service like yours.”
“Well we don't have a place to work from,” she shot back quickly, obviously seeking any excuse to refuse his offer.”
“Property is not an issue. If necessary, the Guild owns spaces you could rent,” Haal assured her.
Aydr opened her mouth to protest again, but Emyl cut in sharply, “don't you dare say no!”
“Emyl!” Aydr scolded.
“I am tired of sleeping on a dirty floor! I want a bath! I want a proper bed!” the younger girl's tantrum made Haal reflect on his own immature behaviours, and without meaning to he let a thin smile form upon his muzzle. The tantrum also drew scowls from the staff, and Haal used that as an excuse to usher the girls from the table.
“It seems we now have a choice to make, Aydr, and the choice is yours,” Haal said as they reached the street again. “My offer to help you is genuine. If you want me to, I will do what I can to help you get your business back on its feet. If you truly do not want my help, then I will accept your alternative arrangement; I will rent a room nearby, enjoy your company, and let you leave with my word that I will not pursue you further.”
Aydr studied the medicalos carefully, pouring over every follicle of fur on his face for any hint of deception. “I still don't understand why you're trying this hard to help me,” she confessed at last.
The statement made Haal blush softly. “I... I fear you will think it foolish, but the truth is that I have few friends I can be honest and open with. The only one I had, I recently lost contact with.”
“You must have friends though, surely?” Aydr replied.
“All my friends lie within my chain of command, or are penitatas who I have responsibilities toward. I suppose I hoped your Play Room would be a place where I could be free of that.”
“That's so sad,” Leyl blurted out, earning her a shocked glance from Aydr and a shy wince from Haal.
“Yes, it is somewhat pathetic now that I say it aloud,” the boy agreed. “Dwelling on it makes me feel small and weak, which in turn makes me want to do something stupid to prove my prowess. Like take sexual advantage of a girl who clearly has no desire to copulate with me.”
To the boy's surprise, Aydr's paw caressed his shoulder. “I think I'd like to accept your business offer. I'm still a little scared you're going to bind me into service of your Guild, but I guess that's a risk I'll have to accept for now.”
A giddy warmth flooded through the boy at Aydr's words. He looked up at her, beaming more than he meant to. “Thank you for trusting me, Aydr. At the risk of shaking that trust, I would rather not have you living on the streets any longer. The Guild can provide you temporary residence, at least until you are prepared to move to whatever new facilities you find.” There was some doubt in the girl's face, but she relented with a nod. “Then, if I may stretch your trust a little further, I also believe I may be able to find you some clients who, like me, would doubtless benefit from your business.”
“Let me guess... members of your Guild?”
Haal nodded. “There are plenty of rejuves in the Enforcers Guild now. But let's deal with the important matters first. You will need clean clothes and a proper bath. Then we can look at purchasing new toys.”

The rest of the day was pleasant and productive for the trio. Clothes were purchased close to where they'd eaten, after which Haal waited patiently outside of the public baths until the girls emerged cleaned, groomed and better dressed than before. The Guild picked up the bill for it all. They went to Up-Market to look at toys, agreeing on and obtaining a wide selection of items ranging from simple paints and paper to elaborate mechanical sets that Haal found intriguing due to their promised complexity. The recommended ages for these were above that of any medicalos, but he reasoned the superior mental development of a rejuve would make up for that. All the purchases were ordered shipped to the Office of Correctors; this was something Aydr pushed back on initially, but over time Haal won her over. They parted amicably, with Haal entrusting her with a coin-card with which to buy food and lodgings for the night. Aydr had sounded sincere when she promised not to go crazy.
He returned to the Correctors' building far more content than when he left. He headed for his office, passing a meeting room with its door ajar and spying a familiar Karrian female from the Penitatas Registration Company speaking with Torn and a Kyyreni female whose face he didn't see clearly. Other doorways or passers-by on the landings gave him snippets of the day's progress, all of it pleasantly routine. The world had not ended in his absence.
As he entered the main work room, Emyl met his gaze. “Corrector-Captain, I need to verify some purchases with you.”
Haal nodded and gestured toward his door. “I thought you might.” There was nothing unexpected, at least not for Haal, but he was glad that Administrator Emyl was diligent on the matter.
The young female settled into the chair opposite his desk and consulted one of the two personal pads she carried in with her. “I'm starting to see why so many people like those spinal anchors,” she said with a chuckle before placing the first on the desk for Haal to examine. As she scrolled up and down on the second, the paired device scrolled without Haal's touch. “So we have a meal for three, assorted clothing purchases, entry for two children into a public baths, transit fees, a lot of toys, more food... well, food's not that suspicious, but girl's clothing? Female bathing?”
“They were purchases for... friends,” Haal answered, unsure of how exactly to describe Aydr and Leyl. “The toys I'd like you to keep aside, as we may be able to mark them as business expenditures later.”
The comment drew a brief flicker of confusion from the young woman, but she shrugged it off. “Then I'll get it all processed and cleared. Although, Corrector-Captain, it's not exactly proper to be buying treats for your girlfriend on the Guild's account.”
The comment caused a sudden, instinctive reaction in the medicalos. He stiffened, ready to snap a furious protest at the insult. He caught himself just in time, but not before Emyl's playful grin had gone rictus. He raised a shy, apologetic paw. “Forgive my overreaction. I... hope to employ Aydr for the benefit of the Guild, which would make it improper for us to have a relationship. I trust the accounts department has no issue with me spending Guild funds on recruiting potential assets?”
“Of course not, Corrector-Captain,” Emyl answered, proper and formal again. Normally, that was how Haal liked things, but now it nagged at him. “I'll leave you to your work.”
“Adm-” Haal began awkwardly, halting his words as they formed. Emyl stood and waited, somewhat puzzled. “I am aware that other members of the Guild find me overly formal. I have made a point of ignoring slips in protocols of address to account for that, but I don't believe I ever asked you, nor anyone else under my command how they wish to be addressed.”
The implied question made Emyl smile. “I don't think anyone minds having rank and title dropped, sir.”
“Then I shall endeavour to run a less formal office moving forward. I'll let you return to your work.”
Emyl gave another warm smile and left, allowing Haal to focus on the details of command for a while. The duty rosters were becoming increasingly important, partly due to the nocturnal patterns of the PRC representatives and their habit of trying to book meetings in the late evening or early morning. The boy's mind wandered, tugging on that behavioural thread with idle curiosity. The Kyyreni homeworld of Urokon was a tidally locked planet – 'day' and 'night' were concepts of geography there, not time. Despite this, most Kyyreni societies on rotating worlds seemed to default to using daytime for waking and working, and the night for rest. Not all, of course, as Nightsiders especially seemed to favour living in the dark, but it seemed the majority of the population preferred to be awake when the sun was out. Even in the City, where a metal sky above making day and night irrelevant, the majority of the population defaulting to daytime living. Why was that?
Haal realised his mind had veered away from his work. “Not as back to normal as I thought,” he chastised himself. The boy's eyes wandered to his own line in the roster and saw he was marked 'valid absent' for the entire day. With that, there was no official need to return to work.

The screen flickered off, and Haal headed for his bedroom. Kas had volunteered to work during the evening shift, and Skal would likely be tired after a day of Guild tutelage. That made any group play upstairs unlikely, and freed of social obligations Haal could treat himself to a night of quiet reading. He entered the bedroom to find Sam folding clothes. Both beds had been made, laundry cleared, and every surface dusted or vacuumed. A crisp, light scent of citrus lingered in the air from whatever freshener or cleaning product had been used. The Penny girl turned to acknowledge his arrival before gesturing to the tidied space. “Emyl said I should do some chores. She threatened to smack my backside if I didn't.”
“You shouldn't need threats of punishment to maintain your living space,” Haal chastised softly.
Sam accepted his comment with a subtle nod. She pushed the drawer closed and leaned against it.”Haal, I don't really know how to ask this so... did you masturbate in my bed last night?”
She didn't need him to answer; the crimson blush of shame was more than enough to confirm Haal's guilt. “I have no excuse,” was his weak reply.
The Kyyreni girl looked at the floor as her right artificial paw rose to rub awkwardly at where her left augmentic coupled to flesh. “I know you have some interest in me, and it's not like Skal and I have tried to hide our involvement around you. I wish you'd said something to me.”
“It is not appropriate for me to approach you in such a fashion. As a penitatas, you are a convict, and to make advances on you would be an abuse of my authority.”
To Haal's surprise, his explanation made Sam smile. “it's not taking advantage if I want it, is it?”
The Kyyreni girl glanced up, her sharp teeth softly biting her lower lip in a way that immediately made Haal recall the guilty fantasy of the previous night. He dared to approach, reaching out gingerly as though he expected Sam to fight or flee, but his outstretched paws found the soft fabric of her shirt and came to rest upon her shoulders. “It isn't solely duty I am concerned with. The last time we were intimate it caused considerable friction between the three of us. I have no wish to repeat that.”
The soft inner pads of Sam's bionic paws stroked Haal's forearms. “I know, but we've worked things out since then. Skal knows he has nothing to fear from you, and I'll make sure he's reminded of that.”
“Then... I would like to have you, fully and completely.”
The words made Sam blush. “You talk about sex so formally! I think I like it.”
Sam's words made Haal smile, and with that his confidence grew. “If I may dare to ask for something more... I would like you to submit to me completely, to make yourself helpless, and trust in my intentions.” He ran his paws down her shoulders and forearms to the implant couplings that linked her artificial limbs to her flesh. He saw a little doubt in her eyes, but the playful chewing of her lip revealed her inner consent.
“Okay,” she whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing at all. Simply... let me take charge.”
Sam acknowledged with a nod, and Haal carefully detached her augmentic limbs. The girl gave a subtle flinch as each came away and was placed with care atop the dresser. The Kyyreni boy took each stump and inspected it with care, wishing to be sure he'd done no harm and found nothing amiss. His eyes locked with Sam's again, who gave another shy nod to signal he should begin whatever he had planned.
The boy knelt in front of her, using gentle pressure on her thighs to part her legs a little more. His finger crept up to her crotch and came to rest on the button of her pants, pressing on it slightly before popping it with care. He took hold of the zipper as though it were made of glass, inching it down so slowly that it scarcely made a sound. Sam's breathing grew deeper with each passing moment as he careful, deliberate attention to her crotch, though still concealed, began to excite her. Once fully opened, the tail fastener came next, and with the same care Haal lowered her pants down to the ankles, leaving her in her underwear. He smiled at the sight of her off-white panties, for in truth most Kyyreni saw no need for such undergarments. Sam, for all her sexual boldness, still had a humble side.
The boy leaned in. His finger tugged the underwear aside to allow his nose access to the hidden girlhood beneath. He found the warm, private passage and took in her scent, sweeter and more potent than from her underwear. The sent was blissful, for it made her consent undeniable. Haal let his eyes slide and closed and basked in her scent, each deep breath in shooting sparks through his body that built in his crotch, causing his boyhood to slowly swell and harden. Each breath out made Sam shiver and gasp as his breath caressed her, though it was only enough to tease. Haal loosened his own pants and let his swelling member hang loose, until scent alone had brought him to full hardness and his knot began to form.
He pulled away, his nose glistening with a sheen of wet arousal, and finally brought Sam's underwear down. He steered each of her footpaws out of the garments, then rose to face her again. Without a word, he took her gently by the chin and steered her toward his bed, pulling the sheets aside and sitting her down before removing the last of her clothes. He was as careful as ever when laying her down, resting her head upon the pillows and moving her tail to the side. The last touch was to raise her legs, tucking them against her chest to reveal her cunny. As he admired the view a bead of arousal slipped from her passage and soaked into her fur beneath.
Haal positioned himself in front of the splayed girl, his cock painfully hard at the sight of her blonde-furred body resting in her bed in a fashion almost identical to his fantasy. His eyes traced across to her tail, then back to her muzzle. Sam met his gaze, curious as to what the boy was thinking. “This may sound strange, but would you... wag your tail?” he asked, breathless with lust.
The request made Sam smile. She raised the stumps of her arms to frame her head and giggled, “you want me playful, sir?”
“I do,” he answered.
Sam responded by biting her lip, though it was a highly exaggerated gesture that looked less lustful and more farcical. She glanced away for a moment to let her giggles fade, then met his eyes again. The expression on her muzzle was lustful and seductive, tilted just enough to hint at shyness while never breaking gaze. Her tail wagged furiously, toes clenched, and she gave a few subtle clenches of her crotch. The display drew a gasp from Haal, and all pretence at modestly collapsed.
The boy threw himself onto her. His jaws found her shoulder and clamped down in a feral act of dominance, making Sam gasp in shock. In those few moments of surprise the tip of his cock, dripping precum, brushed against her clitoral hood to turn the gasp into a pleasant purr. Haal shifted his hips to ease his boyhood down, finding the warm, wet ring of muscle that was the Kyyreni female's passage. He felt her relax as his meat stroked her, welcoming him in with the most primal of reactions. He eased in an inch's worth before releasing his bite and shifting posture, wishing to look into her eyes as they locked. Sam's blush was the most beautiful thing Haal had ever seen, and he gave a trembling sigh of pleasure as he felt her legs wrap around his back to pull him closer. Slowly, blissfully, he was enveloped.
As he felt his knot slip inside, Haal felt the tip of his cock press against the top of her vaginal opening, and Sam's body reacted instantly. Her muscles clenched suddenly and sharply upon his bulging knot. The girl let out a squeak as her whole body stiffened, forced to orgasm by the stimulation of her deepest regions and the resistance of his knot. Haal too began to shudder through a forced orgasm left him breathless and stunned. It was a sense of such intense pleasure that it wrapped around to agony. His rejuve body had yet to replenish the seed spilled on Sam's bedsheets the night before, but what little he had to give was shot into Sam's waiting womb.
He watched the result in real time. The girl's face went from blank surprise – what a vulgar man might called 'fucked senseless' – to a calm and satisfied blush. The presence of a male's seed in the womb was the oldest, surest cure for mating lust, and it seemed to apply even to rejuves whose bodies were still too young to truly mate.
Haal stroked the soft fur of Sam's forehead, wiping away the subtle bead of sweat found there. “I think I might have the strength to keep going, if you wish me to.”
“I'm game,” she sighed, flat chest heaving beneath him as she regained her composure.
“Do you still wish to play at helplessness?” he asked, and she nodded. “Then I will go as long as I can. If you can take no more, then say 'mercy'. Please don't push yourself for my account. I don't wish this to be uncomfortable for you.”
Sam's bitten lip was almost enough to make Haal climax again right there. He began to thrust again, moving as much as the knotting would allow, and each motion was a joyous lesson in Sam's anatomy. He could feel every fold and crease of her, and how her movements subtly changed the sensations playing across his boyhood. Moment to moment a different part of his flesh was caressed and teased. With each thrust there was a subtle pressure against his knot, which teased him with the promise of another orgasm. A burst of intense pleasure surged through the boy as he achieved a dry climax, the sensation made almost alien as it began before Sam clenched down. He shivered and shuddered though it, moaning loudly as his mind blanked. “I think... I think I'm spent,” he sighed, trying his best to keep still as the orgasmic high faded.
“Aww, and I was hoping for a little more,” the penny girl replied playfully, though her heavy panting suggested she too wouldn't object to stopping. She kept still for the boy as they both began to relax, and once Haal's knot had faded he cautiously pulled free. His half-shrunk meat was a tender red from his efforts, which brought on a jolt of shyness that prompted him to cup himself. A moment later, he realised how foolish it was to seek modesty from Sam after having just rutted with her, and removed his paw with a nervous chuckle.
“I want to thank you for this,” he said, putting as much honestly and conviction into his voice as he could. “You have once again been a great aid to me in finding myself. I-” he pause awkwardly before continuing, “I truly value your friendship.”
Sam grinned as she hopped off the bed. Her legs were held a little wider apart than usual, and she held her stumps out toward him. Haal quickly fetched her augmentic limbs and helped reattach them. “I hate that little shock when they plug in,” she lamented. “It's not painful as such, but it's more like nausea. Not nice at all.”
“I certainly don't miss my own implants,” Haal agreed. “I must say, you and Skal seem to have taken to rejuvenation much better than I have.”
“We got a much rougher start,” Sam replied, her voice losing some of its joy. “Cages, spankings, public humiliation... you've had free run of the place from day one, more or less. Maybe a short, sharp shock is what we need to fall in line.”
“I got one of my own, if you recall,” the medicalos countered.
“Not nearly as bad as what we went through!”
Haal raised his paws in surrender. “I won't argue that point. Why not go freshen up? I would like to read a little, enjoy the quiet for the rest of the evening. Skal should be back soon, and if he's not too tired he'll likely want to play with you. I will finish your chores in here, not that there's much left to do.”
“Aww, thank you!” Sam giggled, planting a playful kiss on Haal's cheek. She then pulled back to meet his gaze and added, “Don't worry, I'm not trying to take advantage of you. You're a Corrector, I'm a Penny. I have to do as I'm told.”
“I appreciate that. You may go, 'Penny'.” Haal replied with a hint of a smile. Once Sam was gone he did as promised and restored the room to proper order, though the task did little to distract the niggling doubts in his mind. He had come close to professing he loved Sam, and that idea wormed inside of him. “It seems I am not done being foolish,” he lamented before retreating to the safety of his book.

Despite his doubts, Haal found the days that followed were free of doubts and anxieties. His old focus had returned along with proper self control. The transition to an informal workplace was difficult for him, but with each dropped title and use of personal names it became a little easier to unlearn the lifelong habit. His focus was primarily on the next group therapy session, which he found himself actively looking forward to. This anticipation grew with every meeting he had with Aydr, until the day of the event itself left him downright restless.
He recruited Kas to come along with him. The boy was initially surprised by the request, assuming it was some form of jab at his mental state, but Haal reassured him against such fears. “You have settled well into your new role and life as a medicalos. As such, I feel your presence will aid those who are struggling.” The compliment left Kas beaming, and he gladly agreed to go.
Aside from Kas, the meeting had drawn in two additional medicalos since last time. The rejuves filed in to find a very different arrangement to last time; gone were the circle of chairs, replaced by four small tables in the middle of the room and a smattering of plastic mats around the edge. The female administrator who was supposed to be in charge stood off to one side with a polite smile on her face, though the twitches of her ears and tail spoke of inner turmoil.
“Good morning, everyone!” Aydr called out once the rejuves had all entered. “My name is Aydr, and this is Leyl. Feedback from the last meeting suggested some of you didn't find it all that helpful, so today we're trying something completely different! Can I have a few volunteers, please?”
Haal raised a paw, and nudged Kas with his other to do the same. The two boys were unsurprisingly selected and moved to join Aydr and Leyl at the head of the room. “Thank you both! Now, we have five projects, and I'd like you each to pick one to supervise. We have arts and crafts, puzzles, board games, a mechanic set, and our quiet corner.”
“Quiet corner suits you, Haal!” Kas chuckled.
The Corrector-Captain accepted the jab without comment. “I would like to take the mechanic set, Aydr.”
“I guess I'll take the board games,” Kas added.
“Thank you both! Then I'll take the puzzles and Leyl can look after crafts. The quiet corner will look after itself! Alright, if you would begin setting up for me, please? Once you've done that, jump in and get started! Everyone else, feel free to come over and join in with whatever catches your eye. If you prefer, there's books and comfy chairs in the corner, and there's plenty of sympathetic ears if you'd like to sit and talk for a while,” she gestured to the administrator for emphasis, then added, “come on! We don't bite!”
The update was slow and cautious, but Haal deliberately ignored the rest of the group. The largest of the tables had been pre-selected for the mechanics set by necessity, as even packed away it was a sizeable product. The blue and silver box gave away little of the contents within, which the opened lid revealed to be a collection of modular roadway segments. He unpacked them a handful at a time, arranging them by size and type on the table. The power pack came next, followed by the station modules, a selection of vehicles, and a pair of control consoles. The instructions he left in their plastic bag at the bottom of the kit – Aydr had suggested that working things out on the fly would be more in the spirit of 'play time' than following pre-written rules.
By the time the kit was unpacked, Haal had drawn a trio of onlookers. His fellow medicalos were sheepish in his presence, holding themselves awkwardly as they surveyed the model kit. Their anxiety was all too familiar to Haal – he'd experienced it himself. “Has anyone built one of these before?” he asked.
One of the onlookers stepped forward. “I think they go together like this-” the boy picked up two pieces and pressed them together at a slight angle. There was a little resistance as he tried to straighten them, but his success was indicated by a satisfying clack that brought a grin to his face.
“Let me try,” Haal followed the boy's example, getting the parts to sit properly on the third attempt. The sound of their interlocking was extremely satisfying, and he connected two more random pieces straight away. His joined parts were taken wordlessly by a third medicalos, who started to try and make sense of what to do with them.
It soon became apparent there was a lack of space on their gaming table, but that was no issue; the mechanics Haal had drawn in swiftly agreed to steal another. With their space expanded, the road network grew. The centrepiece was a figure-eight made with two connected crossroads from which all other roads snaked out. Haal was still building his corner when the first car whirred up to him, braked sharply at the unfinished road, and span on its centre to face the other direction. The little toy rolled sideways onto the opposite side of the road and trundled away again.
The Corrector-Captain's encounter with the car made him take stock of the wider table. The power unit and all but one station had been added now, and both command consoles were in use. Haal saw a toy truck roll up to a station covered in blue lights that winked out as matching lights appeared on the back of the truck. It set off again, pausing briefly at the crossroads to let a car speed by, then turned right to stop at the station placed inside the figure-eight. Half the blue lights winked out on the truck and appeared at the station instead, where the truck's cabin took a single green light off the  station in return. A whoop of victory erupted from the two boys who had presumably been responsible for the virtual delivery.
“You are cheating!” came a cry from the game table, though it was good-natured in tone. Haal glanced over to see Kas playing a card game with four other rejuves. “Roll up his sleeves, he's got to have another deck up there!” A glance at the gaming space showed they were gambling for dice, with the accused cheater having presumably placed a high value set.
Behind the card games, Leyl was watching two rejuves paint. They had begun painting on paper, but were now painting each other. Their shrieks drew every eye in the room, and Haal's attention immediately snapped to the room's only adult. The administrator clearly wanted to break them up, but she caught Haal's eye and he waved her back. Unhappy at the order, she nevertheless obeyed.
“Hey! Are you going to plug that station in?” the question snapped Haal back to his own task. He put the final station at a dead end, then consulted the second command console to learn how to choose deliveries. He made his selections and a mix of green and orange lights appeared in the dead end. Touch-screen interactions allowed him to see which location each delivery was meant to go to and how long it had been waiting to be delivered.
“What's this button?” he asked, though he pressed it without waiting. “Oh! We can set target times!” That was a joyous revelation – times could be set manually or randomly, and it became almost hypnotic to watch how the vehicles changed behaviour to respond to the needs of the new objectives. After a few minutes, discussion began on how to optimise the road, and without anyone ever saying so Haal was put in charge of the planning operation. The stations had to stay put – that was the ironclad rule. All the rest could be changed, and thanks to a handful of magnetic stoppers the set itself could be left running while parts were safely removed and rearranged.
A heartbeat later, or so it seemed to the six year old boy, their playtime came to an end. The announcement that time was up met with a chorus of disappointed groans, as every rejuve present had utterly committed to their fun. Haal gave one last look at his creation, studying the delivery times and taking pride in the improvements they had made. The vehicles whirred along their routes, dropping passengers and goods without any heed to the order to stop. He looked to his fellow engineers and saw the same mixed feelings of pride and disappointment – pride in what they had created, disappointment at having to give it up. “Shall we do this again next time?” he asked. That was met with great approval.
“Before you all go, I have one last little announcement,” Aydr addressed the rejuves as they were gathered back together, some still wearing flecks of paint despite best efforts to clean up in the latrines. “It seems you've all found a taste for being children again! That's exactly what we hoped for, so congratulations! Many believe that rejuves are adults in child bodies, but I think different; I think we are children with the memories of adulthood. Children like us need to play, to be silly, to bend the rules a little. We will be here for you whenever you need space to be a child. You don't have to wait for a scheduled meeting; just contact us and we'll pass on our availability. Corrector-Captain Haal should be sending you a mail once he gets back to his desk.”
“We will continue with these meetings in the current form,” the administrator added. “You can use this as a 'play time' if that's what you find helpful, but remember that I am available for anyone who needs to talk through their experiences. Thank you all for attending.”

Haal stayed behind to help clear up, much to Kas' amusement. The trio of rejuves worked in silence to transform the play area back to a barren function room, their many toys and activities returned to their proper home in a storage room nearby. “I think that went well,” Aydr said as she helped Haal carry the car set.
“I feel the same,” Haal said with a grin. “I think this was the first time I have truly lost myself in childishness and not immediately regretted doing so.”
“Oh? I bet there's a story behind that!”
“A gentlemen does not speak of such things,” Haal answered, but that served only to further Aydr's interest.
“There's a lady, is there?”
Haal let out a low huff. “Unfortunately, yes. I find myself infatuated, but her heart belongs to another. We have enjoyed each other's company on occasion, but it is nothing more than another kind of play for her.” Aydr's subtle nod in response was comforting to the medicalos.
The box was put away and the pair made one last sweep of the room. All was now as it should be. “You have an old-fashioned way about you, Corrector-Captain,” Aydr said pleasantly. “Were you always so proper?”
“To a certain extent. In my youth I cultivated a persona of importance that I was convinced made me attractive to the many ladies I pursued.”
The subtle boast made Aydr chuckle, “I suppose you've bedded hundreds of them, right?”
Haal shook his head. “Seven. Well, eight now. I was thirteen when I first fell in love with a girl the same age. We both felt the Urge for the first time and celebrated our blossoming adulthood in the only way that seemed fitting. She had fur the colour of brass and eyes like a sunrise...We told each other we'd be in love forever, and never leave one another's side.”
Aydr said nothing. The older girl stood with a glowing smile upon her face and waited to see where the boy's memory took him. Haal caught her eye and finished with a sigh, “I can't recall why it ended, only that it did. We simply stopped seeking one another out, stopped sending mail or messages. By the next High Year I had a new woman on my arm. I suppose young love is meant to fail.”
“Maybe so, but it's worth it while it lasts, isn't it?” Aydr asked wistfully. She brushed a finger behind Haal's ear in a manner much too formal for his liking, making him jump. “Sorry! I was going ask you about... us. What are you to me now, Corrector-Captain?”
“I... a friend, I would hope,” he answered with a slight tremble to his voice. “If not a friend, then a financier; this pilot has convinced me your business has merit enough to survive.”
“Only friendship?” the meaning of the question was undeniable.
Haal straightened his shirt and brushed a few strands of fur back into line. “I would not have anyone believe I wish to take advantage of you.”
“One thing you've been clear on is that,” Adyr chuckled in reply. “That steadfastness is what has endeared you to me. I've been looking for the catch, waiting for you to play a cruel hand against me, but it's never come. It never will, will it? I like that. We're both old souls in young bodies, you more-so in both counts, I think. Is it rude to ask a boy his age?”
Haal shook his head, but a new thought came to intercept his honest answer. “My age? I am six, going on seven, with the occasional libido of a fourteen year old.”
“Really? Why fourteen?” Aydr asked with a playful raise of her eyebrow.
A faint blush came over Haal's muzzle. “Because I think you are about to offer me the pleasure of your intimate company, and that assumption has left me suddenly lustful.”
Aydr leaned against him, allowing her paw to slide down his stomach and slip into his pants. The soft caress of her fingertips against his sheath sent sparks through the boy's body. “Then let me thank you properly for all you've done for us both. Come to my bed,” she pulled away, subtly sniffing her fingers to take in his scent, and playfully beckoned with the other paw.
“Wait,” Haal said, raising a paw before heading over to the doors of the function room. He checked they were properly closed before tapping the door panel to lock them. Turning back to the older girl, he gestured to one of the soft mats in the corner. “Here will do.”
What followed broke numerous regulations. Haal counted off each and every one in his head, and he simply did not care.